Stranger by the Bay
by Steven Mayo
Summary: Finally got a new one for you guys! This story is what it is, and it really ain't nothin' more than that. As is my nature, it ties into the game in unexpected ways. Enjoy!


Stranger by the Bay

by

Steven Mayo  
  
A foreboding, unhealthy kind of inebriation was washing over the happy people, he thought, as the moon waxed into its high, majestic perch and the coastal mist rocked through the trees. The standing heat of twilight was awakened by the incessant burn of celebratory fires; fires that popped and danced in isolated bursts, like the flowing of conversation from group to group in alternating shouts and catcalls. He should have liked it, should have joined in their splendor with a hoot and holler of his own, but his heart sagged like flooded nets in the bay. Standing amidst their joy, Wakka could only bite his lip nimbly and feel the finger- pointing heat of the flames.  
"Lady Yuna, we present to you this offering and wish you the best of luck. I know you'll do us proud."  
The old woman with the hunched back and cane placed a shimmering fabric robe at Yuna's feet and crossed her arms in the symbol of Yevon before slowly sauntering to the side so that the line could progress.  
"Yes, thank you very much," the pretty Yuna answered back with her well-practiced smile of embarrassment. Her soft, effeminate voice traveled over the wind like a melody. "But really, it's not necessary. Nothing has happened yet."  
"Don't be so humble, m'lady," said the next in line, a young, fit man with a beaming smile and a gift of a splendorous jeweled blitzball. "The daughter of Braska shouldn't even pretend!"  
"Yes," Yuna said brightly and reflectively. She smiled warmly as the line moved on.  
"To think of it," said the next man, shaking his head in the happiest of disbelief, "A summoner coming from a small place like Besaid, and the prettiest one around at that."  
Yuna laughed fully, "Really, you shouldn't. I'm not a summoner yet."  
"Soon, Lady Yuna, very soon. I've no doubt in my mind."  
Yuna did her best to keep up with it.  
Across from the fawning masses, over the fires and in the darker shades of forest shadow, Wakka stood and watched it all go on. He wanted to be happy for it. No, he was happy for it, but something about that wasn't complete. Being a summoner meant the ultimate responsibility, certainly, but that wasn't it. No, that was Yuna's choice and she made it in an instant. Wakka felt a different kind of weight on his shoulders; the weight of guilt.  
Unable to handle it anymore, he raced athletically across the ceremony and purged his soul.  
"Hey, Yuna!" he shouted over the line, hopping and waving his arms.  
People turned and stared but he didn't look back at them. They didn't seem ready to give up their spot in line.  
"Yuna!" he tried again.  
The young woman started laughing buoyantly, and then she shook her head in admonition. Bowing and making the sign of Yevon, she apologized to the next few in line and waved Wakka over, and he bounded up swiftly, appearing out of breath when he finally arrived.  
"Wakka..." Yuna tried to start, but the blitzball captain already knew what he was going to say, and nothing was going to stop it.  
"Yuna ... I'm coming ... with you..." he stammered out, gulping for breath.  
"What?"  
"Tomorrow," said Wakka, finally pushing his arms from his knees and standing the firm, settled way he should when declaring his intent. "Tomorrow I'm going with you as your guardian into the cloister, and don't you even try to stop me, ya!"  
Yes, this felt right, this is the way it should be, but Yuna only smiled that sweet, girly way she always managed to do, and she stood just as firmly right back.  
"Oh Wakka! Tomorrow's not my last day of life, it might not even be anything at all." Wakka eyed her speculatively, not wanting to be fooled with his guard up. "But it is the last day you and the boys have to practice, and I don't see that happening without their highly-skilled captain leading the session."  
"Ah, they do alright!" Wakka defended, slacking a little to his side and scratching an itch on his head that wasn't there. "They can make it without me, ya!"  
"No!" reprimanded Yuna with a fake ferocity, "It'll never work! As summoner of Besaid I am counting on you to win that trophy in Luca."  
"But..."  
"Besides," came a chilly voice from the side. A woman dressed in all black melted out of the distant flames and walked patiently onto the scenes, "A summoner apprentice should only be with her true guardians when she takes the first trials."  
"Hey now, Lulu," Wakka attempted to argue, "I am a true guardian. I just have been doin' other things, ya! Only 'cause Yuna said it was alright."  
"Hmph..." Lulu hummed coolly, the beads in her hair rattling on her back as she sided up to Yuna. "And what was the last game you won?"  
Wakka stepped back and chuckled defensively. Again he scratched his scalp awkwardly, and again there was nothing there to scratch.  
"We've been playin' a lot better lately. I really think we have a chance this year if we just pull a few more good sessions together, ya! Really make the team tight, ya know?"  
"But how could you do that if you're in the cloister tomorrow? It could take all day. You can never tell really," Lulu persisted.  
"Ah, I'm sure we ... wait a minute ... what?" Wakka took an additional step back, now looking rather confused.  
"That's right!" Yuna chimed in merrily. "If you're gonna win in Luca then you have to practice. And tomorrow is all you've got left!"  
"Well, I guess that's true, but..."  
Through a slight glint of clarity, Wakka realized what was happening to him, and instantly he threw his arms up in warding motions and tried to wave the two women down from their mental attack.  
"Now, wait a minute, ya! That's not the point!"  
"But, don't you see, Wakka?" Yuna answered him affirmatively. "That is the point. Blitzball is just as important if not more so than the first trial of someone like me, especially since I'll have Lulu and Kimahri with me."  
"Yeah, but..."  
Wakka knew what was happening: the same thing that happened every time. Beginning now to reel in anticipation and anxiety, Wakka's mind crept closer and closer to what it was that stuck like a splinter in his brain. That ultimate question that bubbled under his pleasant demeanor. Almost seething, he kicked his leg through the dirt and crossed a quick arm through the air.  
"No way! I'm comin' with ya!"  
"Oh, Wakka!" Yuna gave back with a pert smile, knowing that she'd won, regardless of what the blitz captain seemed to think. Lulu at her side brushed a few stray hairs from her eyes, but other than that she was completely still. "I order you to practice blitzball tomorrow."  
"Huh?"  
"That's right," the apprentice summoner continued, "You will play blitzball tomorrow or you can't be my guardian."  
"Hey," Wakka protested, becoming exasperated, "Now hold on a minute. There's no reason to be..."  
"Wakka!"  
Wakka stepped back once more and dropped his arms to his sides, his shoulders sinking a little and his eyes casting down. He nuzzled the ground with the toe of his sandal sheepishly.  
"Yeah, alright," then he seemed to perk just a little and he gave a quick laugh. "Yeah, I guess the boys need their captain if we're gonna take home the cup, ya?"  
"That's right," Yuna acquiesced. But the brightness on her face dimmed when she saw Wakka's smile fade to solemnity. He scratched his head.  
"I just thought, ya know, maybe..." it seemed he was having trouble speaking, and his voice dropped by decibels as the peering, somewhat annoyed eyes of the other partygoers began to weigh themselves in. Yuna blinked and waited; Lulu wore her normal scowl. "I just thought that maybe that's what, ya know, Chappu would have done."  
Lulu instantly inhaled a great, angry breath, and Yuna seemed unexpectedly taken aback.  
"What?" the apprentice summoner gasped, groping her hand on the folds of blouse.  
"Nothin'," Wakka said quickly, suddenly afraid for some reason. "Ya know, he was never real big on blitzball like me."  
Lulu's eyes flared.  
"Hmph, really shows how little you understood your brother!"  
"Hey now!"  
"Chappu wouldn't have wanted you to do anything," Lulu informed him in a glacial voice. "He would have let you make your own choice." Her words felt extremely heavy.  
"Oh? Well ... yeah, I guess so..." Wakka wished he hadn't said anything.  
"I bet so!" Lulu finished, turning with a swish of her hair and exiting through the flames. The blitz captain stood with downcast eyes scrunched on his face.  
"Wakka..." said Yuna tenderly, unable to ignore the mounting eyes of those around her.  
"She's right, ya," Wakka said, beaten. "Like usual."  
"Wakka..."  
"Well, I'm gonna, ya know, I'm gonna take a walk. Good look tomorrow, Yuna. I'll make sure the boys practice real hard."  
Though Yuna raised her hand to beckon him to stay, Wakka spun almost haphazardly and moved swiftly away from the scene, dodging both people and their eyes, and losing himself to the cool island trees. He didn't know where he was going; he hardly cared, but he had to get away from it. A sickly, venomous emotion was swelling inside, erupting in his chest and then flowing until it pulsed in his fingertips. Wakka was never one to get angry, never one to let things get him down, but for once he'd really wanted something, and as always, she had taken it away. Just like him.  
But it was a stupid thing to want, anyways; that's what he told himself. Yuna was right. With Lulu and Kimhari by her side she wouldn't have any trouble at all in the trials, at least not until the prayer room itself, and that was a place the guardians couldn't go. So it really didn't matter, the more you think about it; that's what he told himself.  
And that probably was what Chappu would have wanted, for Wakka to do whatever he wanted; to do what he felt was right. But then, Wakka felt that going into the trials was the right thing, but that's no what was happening at all. Then again, he wanted to play too, he wanted to show the Luca Goers and the Al Bhed Psyches a thing or two in the sphere, he wanted to grasp that monumental trophy proudly in his hands while lifted on the shoulders of Jassu and Keepa and all the others, and wanted to see her smile when he next saw her. Not Yuna's smile, though when he thought of how helpful that would be on her pilgrimage he got all the more anxious, but Lulu's smile, the one he never got to see. Wakka thought it was Lulu's smile that he was hoping to receive, hoping to earn; that's what he told himself.  
But then ... why was Chappu on his mind? Why had the thoughts of him been growing stronger and stronger as everyday drew nearer to Yuna's becoming? Was it to that? Or were these days drawing them nearer to the tournament? The simple image of a blitzball played through his mind, unadorned and solemn in the cerulean sand, the trickles of light cascading from the nearby ocean illuminating waves across the ball's body. Slowly the blitzball faded away leaving only the flickering light of the waves shimmering across a new body, an almost invisible column of electric blue falling down into a hilt, a sword. A sword of water.  
That image hung in his mind as if the blade itself had been stabbed there, and with it resounded a fearsome beat in Wakka's chest. Chappu really had done whatever he wanted, hadn't he, Wakka thought. He had done what he believed in without question, and never let others push him around or get in his way. Chappu always stuck to his choices. But then, where had that got him?  
An ugly pulse quickly made Wakka disregard that sentiment, and he finally dislodged the wicked sword of water from his brain. Perhaps just to hinder another image from taken its place, Wakka stomped his more hesitantly into the soil and looked around.  
When his eyes reconnected with the surroundings he immediately saw himself leaving the forest and walking briskly down the cold, rocky path that ended in the ocean bay. He kept going, almost as if pulled, enticed, lead by the hand, and very soon his feet were enjoying the welcome caress of evening sand, and his eyes enjoyed the gorgeous reflection of moon and night across the great pool of the bay, wafting shades of blue over the beach in a tranquil breeze.  
The beach was calm and empty, with little wind and everybody else up at the party. Turning, Wakka could just make out the orange glow of one of the bonfires on the distant peak. He could hardly believe he'd been walking so long; he could also hardly care. He suddenly enjoyed the expansive distance between him and them, somehow it felt safer. Putting them to the side where they belonged, Wakka strolled comfortably along the beach, further and further from Besaid, closer and closer to the ocean.  
"It doesn't matter, ya?" he said to himself. "It doesn't matter."  
Rounding a bend in the beach, he saw the orb-like shadow of a blitzball lodged in the sand, and if in nothing other than instinct he trotted a few steps to it and fished it up, wiping off the sand. It was a fresh ball, probably one the team had been practicing with that morning. Wakka liked a fresh ball. It felt good to hold it, it felt soothing and natural. He wondered then how he ever could have given up a chance of winning the cup. That's not Chappu would have done, not on his life! That's what he told himself.  
"We're gonna win it, ya?" He said enthusiastically, dropping the ball and dexterously kicking it forward in a no-doubt goal scoring shot kick. The blitzball rebounded off a net hanging fishing equipment tied to one of the abandoned beach tents and skimmed over the water twice before swinging back around to Wakka's arms. He smiled, and then performed the shot again and one time after that. Each shot perfect, each shot skilled enough to put the Goers out of commission.  
After practicing merrily for a while he realized he was humming the Yevon hymn, rather unexpectedly. Granted, he loved the song, but just breaking into it out of the blue was not normal. But the surprise was broken instants later when he heard the breathy, stoic melody on the air, drifting down from the party in Besaid, sung ceremoniously in verse after verse to the young summoner apprentice. It was so relaxing a sound, so soft on the twilight wind, that it took Wakka's pent up energy away from him. He dribbled the blitzball a few times against the sand and then tossed it a ways down the beach, choosing to let the drifting song of the hymn take over. Crouching to rest his legs, he hummed along.  
He never knew if the bright glint of moonlight had been real or imagined, but as he was sitting there allowing his imagination to overcome him, just such a glint caught his eye, and quickly he spun to the right and saw a shadow, a body, a something lying in the low tide, the foamy water hurtling over as was its nature. Wakka's eyes dimmed and studied, but the distant object was too much shrouded by the waves and darkness. He couldn't remember looking that direction with any purpose before, but still it felt that something was off, that this thing was new. Standing slowly, he eyed it cautiously, and then he approached on edge.  
"Hey!" he called, feeling stupid, but that feeling inched away with every step bringing him closer to the object in the tide. The ashy blotches of shadow formed themselves into definite shapes, two long cylinders craned forward and attached to the main mass, and two similar appendages down the back. Then it became clearer; a head, two arms, two legs, a torso, all hooded and cloaked in water-sopped attire. A person.  
"Hey!" Wakka shouted anxiously this time, the speed gathering in his feet and the grizzly image of the drowned body thrusting itself closer. "Hey, are you okay?"  
But it was quite obvious that this man or woman was not okay. As the gurgling churn of the ocean shuttled past again and again, the body made not the slightest struggle, no the slightest plea, not the slightest move. Wakka plunged through the last few feet of sea and threw himself to his knees before the body, instinctively looking around for help, and of course, finding none.  
"Did you hear me, huh?" he asked earnestly, to no visible response.  
His hands moved to the facedown person's left arm, but froze at the last moment, hanging perilously close just over the wet sand. A new something had caught his eye, something much bigger, but when he looked again, and looked hard, it had passed like dust in the wind. Gulping the portentous world down, Wakka grabbed the body and made to pull it to its back when suddenly it jolted to life.  
The person's arms flailed over, accidentally slapping Wakka away. The being covered in wet clothing stood frantically, legs scattering from under it, fighting for a life of their own, and the being stomped down the beach several great strides before losing composure and landing once again with its face in the dirt.  
"Careful now, ya?" said Wakka, very concerned.  
It made noise, guttural wrenching noises like those of a barbaric man as it pressed itself away from the caking sand and swiped it from its lips and eyes. It breathed hard, as if it had struggled years for air, been choked free of it for lifetimes. For the moment it seemed content to kneel over the beach and absorb the atmosphere. Wakka didn't know what to do, standing a short distance from what he now thought was man, only he couldn't be entirely sure as he hadn't seen its face.  
"That's right, now, just breath a bit, ya? Don't try nothin' too hard."  
If the strange man heard or understood at all he didn't show it, nor did he show his face or features. Collecting a stronger and stronger hold of his breath, the man seemed to fatigue instantly, dropping his forehead into the cool sand and letting his weight shift forward onto it. Wakka slowly approached, one guiding hand out forward, the other at his side. His legs were like iron columns.  
Coming upon the hunkering being, Wakka made out the smooth, young features of his hands as they molded themselves in the sand, and his unadorned feet were equally juvenile in appearance, clean and healthy, the skin would be a bronzed tan in the sun. But despite Wakka's efforts as he sided himself next to the young man, he couldn't catch a glimpse of the face as it was too far hidden under the hood. Wakka knew he had come far enough for the being to feel his presence, so he stood and waited for it to make the next move. Undeniably Wakka's neck hairs stood on end, and his chest tingled in anticipation. There was no telling whether or not he was in danger, not yet, but he risked it anyhow, his feet only inches from the fallen body.  
The far off repetition of the ephemeral hymn cast a gothic pall on the scene.  
"Feelin' better?" Wakka had to ask, unable to wait any longer.  
The young man wiped his lips once more, and then did his head as he lifted it from the shore, still inhaling slow, relaxing breaths and resting his arms in the ground. At long last, he stood, keeping his side to Wakka, concealing his face, and seeming to stare down the joint of the beach, admiring its subtle beauty. The young man's cold directness and economy of motion was almost supernatural. Wakka couldn't stop himself from stepping a few times back.  
A new, louder, more impassioned chorus of the hymn broke loose in the village above, and the young man turned just slightly as if in response. The motion was so small, so thin, so chillingly controlled, the man Wakka had once thought was drowning now seemed from an entirely new world. He could hardly think over the pounding in his chest.  
"Can't ya say somethin'?" protested Wakka.'  
"I'm sorry," the man said in a parched dry, throaty voice that made Wakka jump. It was horrific and yet entirely local.  
"So you can speak?" he said, beside himself.  
"I was just admiring the coast and the glitter of fire against twilight," the man's voice grew stronger and more tonal, to the point it almost sounded friendly. In fact, it sounded a lot like...  
"I find the most impressive sights are the simplest," the young man continued, calmly. "When you allow the mind to imagine beauty it only makes it too complicated, too perfect, until it's not even real. It's so hard to create reality in our dreams, so futile, but some of us dream so long we forget, we can't tell the difference."  
He paused a moment as the ceremonious voices arched over the highest note bravely and delivered the key tone. The break gave Wakka half a moment to speak, but he didn't respond fast enough to take it.  
"That is, until we see it once again, not with our minds, but with our eyes. Until we see that, we're just floating in space, pretending to be."  
By now the final raspy etches of the man's voice had been glazed over and it had become reflective and vivacious. Wakka's blood pulsed; it didn't sound a lot like him, it sounded exactly like him. Reeling to the point of sickness, Wakka clawed his hand out deftly and pulled the hood down, revealing the man within. He turned, his orange-blonde hair radiating even in that light, his dark island skin moody from the shadows, his face strong and assured, his eyes sparkling with secret fragility. Trumpets blared inside Wakka's veins.  
"Hello, Wakka," said Chappu, brotherly charisma flushing.  
No manner of expectation or certainty could truly have prepared Wakka when his brother's face once again met his eyes after a year of loss, after a year of acceptance, after a year of moving on. Wakka rebounded backwards, waving his arms blindly in front of him. Chappu only stood stoically.  
"But..." Wakka's words were breathless, "But..."  
"It's been a long time, brudda."  
"How can this ...?" confusion tossed around him like waves in an ocean. "But you..."  
"Give it time," said Chappu. His voice was assuring, but also stony, almost fearful; as if time was the last thing he wanted to give it.  
"This is ... impossible!" Wakka stammered.  
"Obviously it's not, or I wouldn't be here."  
The direct quality of Chappu's voice iced over Wakka's delusion. He had to look the young man in the face, look at those bright, lively eyes and the familiar features of his muscular jaw and short nose. It was him, Wakka knew it.  
"Little Brudda!" he said, a wide smile curving on his face as he opened his arms and advanced for an embrace. But just as he closed in, Chappu stepped back a length.  
"No!"  
"Chappu..." dire concern tore over Wakka's visage.  
"It's for your own safety, Wakka!"  
The blitz captain stared aghast a moment, not sure of what to make of it. Was he serious?  
"Ya gonna talk like that to your big brudda after all this time?"  
"I'm sorry," he said as if acquiescing, yet not moving an inch nearer. "I'm not quite myself, you see."  
"Oh, well, I can imagine after what you musta been through. What took you so long to get back, ya?"  
"It's not that..."  
"I always knew it," Wakka interrupted, now drifting off into those dreams that had haunted him since he'd heard news of Chappu's death. "I always knew you hadn't died in no battle with Sin, ya? Ain't no brudda of mine gonna go out like that."  
The endless possibilities of everything were rushing through Wakka's mind. He had his brother back, and now he could take him up to Besaid and bring him to ... to Lulu. And then he would get to see her smile, get to see her cry with joy. Affection pumped in Wakka's heart, and a tear traced the long path down his face.  
"Hey, how'd you get back here, huh?" asked Wakka. "A boat drop you off? Why'd you keep ya big brudda waitin' so long, huh?"  
"Wakka, please. I don't have much time," for the first time, Chappu's face escaped the iron grimace and a look of fear crept over. In truth, it looked as if he was hurting with every moment that passed.  
"What's that, ya?"  
"It's ... it's hard to explain. It'll be hard for you to understand."  
It felt like he was leaving, felt like he was trying to go away, and Wakka couldn't have it.  
"Well, we've got all the time in the world now, brudda. Let's go back up to the village and you can rest, an' then you can tell me about it."  
"No, it's not..." Chappu seemed to be verging on tears himself, but Wakka wasn't done yet.  
"Ya know we got a new summoner in town, gonna go through the trials tomorrow. And the blitz tournament in Luca is comin' up real soon, oh yeah, and Lu would love to see you."  
With those last words, Wakka saw a tender and defenseless shiver run through Chappu's body. The young man shook it off and tried to stand taller to match his big brother's height. The tears didn't come.  
"I would have liked to see her again," said Chappu. Wakka seemed embarrassed.  
"Hey, you still can, ya?"  
"No, it's ... it's complicated. It'll be hard for you to understand."  
"Ya keep sayin' that," Wakka declared, and the foreboding and condescending nature of Chappu's words made the beach feel small and confining. He suddenly became aware of his surrounding and for the second time he thought he saw something, something huge, pass by his side, but once again his eyes saw nothing but serene environment when they searched. The water rolled as it did, the wind blew as it did, and only the delicate chorus of the hymn filled the air.  
"Because it will be," Chappu concluded, looking worried. "It's about what happened a year ago..."  
He paused.  
"Ya?" said Wakka as a fear blanketed him.  
"Well, what happened, well it's not what you think it is now."  
"I can see that."  
"No, I mean it's not what you think it is now. I ... I didn't survive, Wakka."  
An incredulous look formed on Wakka's face. It looked as if he would start laughing, though uncomfortably.  
"What? Come on, don't tease ya big brudda."  
"No, Wakka, I'm serious. I died that day on the beach, fighting for the crusaders." Though his words were insanity, Chappu's eyes glared conviction.  
"Hey, impossible, ya?"  
"It's possible, Wakka. I am ... unsent."  
"What?" he'd never heard the phrase before, not used in first person.  
"I'm unsent, Wakka, my spirit never passed to the farplane."  
"They send everyone!" Wakka yelled, becoming angry. "After the battle, the bodies are gathered and sent, and those who aren't become fiends!"  
"Not me, brudda, not me."  
He was losing his little brother, losing him all over again, only this time he was there right next to him, there to relive those rotten emotions, that hideous anger, there to ask his corpse the questions he'd longed to then. A head of tears formed behind his eyes, the pressure unbearable.  
"What were you thinking, goin' off and fightin' with the crusaders, usin' some machina weapon? What were you thinking, ya?"  
"Please, Wakka..."  
"You know that they're prohibited by Yevon. The only way to fight sin is to atone and perform the final summoning. You know that, Chappu!"  
Chappu made an unsteady retreat.  
"Listen, I didn't come to defend..."  
"It was stupid, ya? Stupid, plain and simple!"  
As if to personify Wakka's anger, a gust of wind bellowed past and the ocean turned over tumultuously. Chappu was now to his knees in the bay, sulking very much like a small child.  
"I'm not saying it wasn't, brudda, but I can't be makin' excuses for it now."  
"You left me alone, and you left her alone. We're ya just too busy thinking of yourself?"  
"Listen, that's not why I'm..."  
"Tell me, ya? Because I need to know, for me, ya?"  
Chappu sighed and lost his vision in the swirling tide, his arms falling lax at his waist, and his eye crimped to fight back the tears. He knew it would come to this, the questions. Like any of this was his choice.  
"What happened?"  
"It wasn't for me!" shouted Chappu, gripping his hands into fists. "I did it for her, all for her!"  
"Oh ya? Went and got yourself killed for Lu. Some romantic gesture, ya?"  
"That's not what I said," his brother fired back, a quiver of anger trembling in his voice. But that quelled and he sighed again, now turning his eyes north to the smoking bonfires in the distance, and he seemed to be keeping his ears upon the hymn as it waned into its final rounds. "I did it ... I did it because ... huh, you really don't understand anything, do you?!"  
"What's that?!"  
"I did it because I wanted to impress her! By defeating sin I was going to impress her, ya know, make her smile at me for once." Wakka could find nothing to say in return and Chappu pressed forward. "Because the one she always really cared for was you, but she was just too shy to admit it. That's right, even Lulu is shy about some things. But I liked her, ya know, and I thought that if maybe I did something really spectacular she would like me back. But you're right, it's stupid, plain and simple."  
Chappu's eyes would hardly leave the fires. Wakka was silent a moment, an entire wealth of the unknown buzzing around him. When he spoke, it was eerily calm.  
"What happened?"  
"I saw ... I saw a chance and took it, I guess when I shouldn't have done so. There was a break in the line, a flank that had fallen back. I thought I could be a showoff, ya, I though maybe I could really do something amazing. I was out to win, I was out for victory."  
Wakka scratched the imaginary itch on his scalp and tried to cover his grim face with movement, speaking and kicking at the wet sand.  
"I always told you that playing your best is the most important."  
"I remember it was cold," Chappu started, drifting off, his eyes locked on the village, "That day on the beach. So unnaturally cold, like none of us had hearts. As if we'd left them behind. I think that now. I think every man leaves his heart behind when he goes to battle so that it might keep his loved ones warm, at least a little longer, because it was so cold on that beach. The sunrise was gorgeous, incredible, bright orange and red, reflecting off the sand, like burnt copper. It was so perfect I didn't think it was real; I thought it was one of those fabrics woven on the loom in town, as if someone had draped it there to hide the darkness from us, to hide some truth from us that we already knew but just couldn't admit it. We couldn't admit our fear.  
"No one spoke. When you meet a crusader he talks so much, for so long about pride, duty, honor ... they never ran out of things to say until that morning. And that crusader is so happy to tell you about their history, about the famous battles against sin and the heretics, but we didn't feel like part of history on that morning. And they love to show you their weapons, and their battle tactics and their bodies ... they spend so much time working on their bodies ... but nobody felt strong that morning.  
"A tremor ran through the army when the captain took his place in front and looked us over, and he said he was proud, only we didn't care how we looked. The captain turned slowly, as if he was turning his back on his friends, and a solemn frown touched his face before he looked completely away. And next we waited with our eyes on the sea, on those passionate, heartbreaking colors reflecting off the sky. We waited for something to come from that beauty and kill us. When first we saw sin it was miles away, treading the water with his horned back, approaching fast. There were these young kids behind me, younger than me, stupid kids, they started to cry, hiccupping, sobbing, tripping over their lips. Nobody said anything to them. A man to my right threw up at his feet and then fell backward, gasping for breath. With every energy in his body he crawled away behind the ranks, hiding his face. Nobody said anything to him."  
Chappu paused and listened, his body frigid. Up in Besaid, where the bonfires were now little more than the flickers of torches, they had stopped singing the hymn. Chappu went on.  
"Half of the army died in the first ten seconds. Just a flash and then they were no more. Those of us that remained recoiled in fright and huddled into useless masses, while sin reared itself proudly in the bay as its thirst for death was so efficiently quenched. Then the spawn came, hundreds of them galloping over the sand with intent to kill everything left, and they quickly tore through our lines, our cannons hardly denting their armor. I ran as those around me were torn to pieces, I ran to find a solid line and try to make an advance, but already we were too few and too scattered, and the sound of crying was so pervasive and disorienting. We could feel the toxin seeping over us.  
"At last I found a group of ten men who fought down a wave of the spawn and I joined them to assault sin itself. We put pressure on them, but in our fear we became hasty and allowed an attack to come from behind, splitting our ranks and eventually dispersing our line. It was so obviously over then, but ... but I didn't stop, I didn't go back. I saw, just over the water line where sin was stomping around, I saw flat pouch of skin where it didn't have any armor, a nerve center, and I thought that if only I could land a solid attack the thing might retreat. Right there, in the middle of that, I actually thought that I might be some kind of hero. Adrenaline tempering my senses and charged with the barrel out and sight locked, but before I could take proper aim one of its tentacles slapped around and took my by the legs, hurtling me to the ground. I fired ferociously at the thing, but it was too thick for bullets. If ... if I'd had a sword I'd have cut my way free and maybe even made it. If I hadn't been so arrogant to make myself different from you."  
Wakka shook his head to deny his dead brother's arrogance.  
"It happened just after that, only seconds later. I was thinking about how fast it all had happened, so incredibly fast. You can't even imagine. And then it started to feel tight around my chest, then painfully so, and the next moment, all the wails of pain and sorrow, and all the violent sounds of gunfire and screeching blinked away, as did I. I know that the battle ended not longer after that, and the few survivors searched the beach for the sending ... only they didn't find me ... I wasn't there."  
The tension in Chappu's voice was primed to snap, and Wakka was rubbing the moisture from his eyes.  
"Where were you?" Wakka implored desperately, and the question brought Chappu back to his face, a new look of assertiveness plastered on.  
"Wakka, I came here tonight to tell you something, something very important."  
"But where were you? Where did you go?"  
"I'm out of time! They've stopped singing, I can't guaranty your safety much longer."  
"But..."  
"Wakka, listen to me very carefully, somebody is coming!"  
"Who?"  
"You won't know him, but he is coming here and I want you to look after him, in fact, I don't want you to let him out of your sight. Keep him with you at all times."  
"I don't understand!"  
"You don't have to! Just do it, for me!"  
"But how will I know who it is?" Wakka cried, worlds tumbling around him.  
"You'll know him like you know your own brother, I promise."  
"...Why? Why did you come here to say this?"  
Chappu looked worried, as if he couldn't spare another single second.  
"Because if I did I could go free. He's going to take me to a place to be sent if I just do this for him."  
"Who? I don't..."  
"Him..." said Chappu, stepping to the side. For the third time Wakka saw something moving in the water, only this time it was for certain. The shadow stretching into the horizon and the depth seemingly endless, Wakka made out the unmistakable outline of the great beast, floating just below the surface.  
"Sin!" Wakka shouted, retreating with fright.  
"So you understand why I have to go now? If I go, so will he."  
"But you ... sin ..."  
"If I go, so will he!"  
Wakka fell to his back and the above and below seemed to stumble upon each other, each splitting into a thousand new dimensions. It didn't make sense, none of this made sense.  
"We could send you, we'll take you up to the temple right now!"  
"No!" hollered Chappu, moving further into the tide which was beginning to foam as the creature below was awaking and preparing to stretch its legs. "I could never put her though that. She mustn't know about this. It's best that she let it rest."  
"But I just can't believe any of this, ya? I don't know what to do."  
"Just take care the someone who's coming. Just do that, nothing could be more important. Nothing!"  
Then, with the fearful presence of a god, Sin arched its back and craned its head out of the water, the frothing liquid running messily down its body. The entire sky was blacked out.  
"No!" Chappu roared at the monster, "You promised!"  
Wakka was immobile with fear, a sick, clenching pain gripping his entire body into paralysis as the beast rose higher and higher from the bay, its massive arms and legs like towers on which sat a gothic city. It shook off the water like a dog, the shrapnel pattered like rain, and it lowered its head menacingly. And Wakka knew, Sin was in striking distance of Besaid.  
"I must go!" Chappu declared with finality. "It was good seeing you again!"  
"But..." however, Wakka could not form a useful word in the face of the great evil as it grew taller and taller still, the size of its body unimaginable.  
"Know that I will soon be at peace," were Chappu's final words, and then he turned towards Sin, and walked through him, disappearing within its being.  
Wakka scurried crab-like away from the shoreline as far up the beach as his trembling limbs would submit to. Sin spun lazily and plowed its head back into the bay, swimming out and deeper until it was lost to the sea. And very slowly the night righted itself. The tide stopped heaving and was happy to wash upon the shore in gentle currents, the breeze slackened to its modest pace, and the air was temperate. The only noise was that of the ocean rushing across the beach. Still, Wakka's eyes stayed on the sea for a long time following, until all that remained was but a figment of Chappu's wake.  
  
The next day was bright and tropical; the beach was warm and ready. The players fanned out and tossed the ball to and fro, occasionally mixing it up with a less than skilled attempt at a kick. Their coach seemed a little slow on the uptake; the boys often found him staring aimlessly out into the wide blue, they had to call him on it more than a couple of times. He shrugged it off and told them to keep practicing.  
But something interrupted practice, something in the water, a person, tossing about on the low waves. The person kicked their blitzball back into play, a beautiful shot, and then he made his way to shore with a funny smirk on his face. The coach stood back for a second, watching him approach and looking him up and down. It looked like him, looked a lot like him in fact. And the coach felt like he knew him.  
Slapping the newcomer on the back, the captain took him under his wing, and just then, when no one else seemed to be looking, he saw, maybe thousands of miles away somewhere on the other side of the ocean, the sudden ascension of pyreflies. Had they asked, he would have pointed.


End file.
